


Various Stories (Ft. MDZS cast)

by Scarlet_Skies



Category: Founder of Diabolism, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fic List, Multi, i have no regrets but i do have tears, people dying all over the damn place
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-07 04:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18403046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Skies/pseuds/Scarlet_Skies
Summary: Angst stories regarding different characters in MDZS





	1. Mother's Life Stories (Ft. Lan Xichen)

Lan Xichen always wondered what happened that day when his brother left the dormitories earlier than he did. 

Lan Zhan had been restless, had been shifting in his seat with a frown on his face. Impatience is against the rules, Lan Xichen recalled chiding his brother, to which he received an unimpressed pout. Still, little Lan Zhan got up, his patience gone, and left the dormitories. Lan Xichen let him go. Nothing could stop him once he put his mind to it, and little Lan Zhan always had the interest of adventure, it was something he shared with their mother, supposedly. He remembered her saying it a few times before she was bedridden.

Lan Xichen doesn’t-  _still_ doesn’t know what his mother’s illness was, but he knew that whatever it was kept her confined to bed on most days. She said she had to give up many things due to her illness, but never elaborated on what ailed her or what those things were.

That was Mother. Always speaking in riddles, a woman as enigmatic as the moon on a starless night, with the wise yet haunted visage of a person who knew a secret that laid heavily on their shoulders. A burden that Lan Xichen could see but not understand, one that he dared not press because mother’s eyes would gain that distant, frosted look that made it seem like she was just barely stopping herself from falling into death’s embrace.

Lan Xichen always wondered what life was like for his mother, what was the world that she tended to dream of in her sleep, the world before the sterile white walls of her hut. The names that she would mutter, the stories she would tell, yet never, ever do those stories have anything to do with their father. He recalls the names.

Cangse Sanren, a woman who was wild and beautiful and lively, her sworn sister and an amazing cultivator.

Wei Changze, her sworn sister’s beloved who left the safe walls of his sect to join her on the roads.

He heard those names, whispers of a time long past, and of people his mother scarcely mentioned. He hears the stories and quietly compiles them into a book, trying to find out where each tale goes in the long, long life story of his mother.

Lan Zhan, little Lan Zhan, always stuck so close to Mother. He’d cling to her bosom and listen to her story with soft interest as mother gently twisted and tied their hair. Mother who, though sickly, would try to rise from bed and hold them. Some days were more difficult, some days she could barely sit, and she’d stare at her lap with the hints of sadness, disgust, and mourning etched into her features before smoothing into a gentle smile when she looked at them.

Her last story, the  _last one she would ever tell them_ , the last one he had in his compilation of stories he had yet to finish sorting and now will never be finished, is a story of a young woman who visited the little town of Caiyi, the small, sleepy town at the banks of Gusu. She told them the story of a young woman, a traveler, and her chance meeting with a handsome man dressed in white. A handsome man who saw the woman and smiled, and followed, and chased, ~~and captured~~.

 _This story is not a kind story_ , Lan Xichen remembers thinking to himself as he listens to his mother’s soft voice as she unravels a vicious tale thinly veiled with gentle words and soft imagery. The woman did not want to be entangled in the world that the handsome man lived in. She returned the gifts, tried to persuade the man to find another, but he continued. 

 _Passionately in love_ , Lan Xichen remembers the slight tinge of vitriol in his mother’s tone as she says the words, _with the woman that he would not let her rest till she accepted him_.

So again, and again, the man continued his pursuit.

Mother’s gaze was hazy as she stared off, silent.

It was little Lan Zhan’s voice that startled their mother out of her reverie. His golden eyes locked on his mother’s features, a hand clasping the soft fabric of her sleeve, a young voice, “What happened next?”

Lan Xichen remembers the look in his mother’s eyes, the melting glacier that held a tinge of misery and fatality, and the slight red that stained the outermost sections of her eyes, “Next? Xiao Zhan, of course, what happened next is that the man did everything he could to make the woman his wife, and he…” a pause, almost imperceptible but Lan Xichen saw the bob of her throat as she continues with a slightly more strained tone, “ _Succeeded_.”

“He won her heart?” Little Lan Zhan asked, curious.

“He got everything that he wanted.” She said softly, tucking the loose strand of hair behind Lan Zhan’s ear. “In the end, the man and the woman married, and he took her to his home and they had children. The man got what he desired.”

The autumnal smile graced their mother’s features and she nodded to herself, once again lost to the world. Their Uncle came for them not long after, and they bid mother goodbye. From her perch on the bed, she nodded, reserved and quiet as they departed from the house.

He didn’t think that’d be the last time he’d see her.

Lan Xichen wanted to know how his mother’s stories were connected to each other, and compiled them all into a book that will now forever remain unfinished, tucked away in one of the shelves in his study. He wants to know the connection, he wants to know more. He wants to know what happened that day that little Lan Zhan left the dormitories early, and returned to him with a bruised cheek.

The day Mother took her life.

Lan Xichen breathed heavily, hand shaking heavily as his brush creates ugly lines on the paper.

He wants to know. He wants to know so badly what happened that day.

He wants to know why his little brother waited outside their mother’s house, no longer eagerly awaiting her to open the doors,  but instead resigned to sitting and waiting. He wants to know the origins of the bruise. He wants to know why their mother left them.

The incomplete compilation of stories, of their mother’s life, of her last story, he wants to know the truth. He wants the reality behind the veil that everyone insistently keeps hanging, not letting anyone see what is the truth.

But every time he looks at Lan Wangji, of the frozen jade-features and the melancholy and resignment as he sits in front of their mother’s home, he feels himself falter.

The stories from their mother, just like her life, were a tragedy that came to an abrupt end.


	2. They Were Just Kids (Ft. Junior Generation)

They are all children.

All children born in a world where there is no Qishan Wen Sect bearing down on the sects, always ready to make a statement, to make an example out of outliers and people who disobey.

They are born in a world after the destruction of Gusu Lan, where the sect was laid to waste and “to be rebuilt like a phoenix” from the ashes, where a sect leader was murdered and the perpetrators suffered no consequence because everyone was afraid to step out of line, and the burning of Lotus Pier, where an entire sect was wiped out without mercy.

They live in a world after the death of the Yiling Patriarch, where the dead do not rise from their graves in the thousands and are commanded to tear people apart. They were not even alive at the time of the Sunshot Campaign, fought alongside the undead and watch an enemy Wen turned into an allied corpse under the ministrations of a man cloaked in blood and resentment, playing a song on his flute as he bathes the ground in red and forces the dead to rise.

Forgive them, the past generation would whisper to the elders of their sect. Forgive them, because they do not know. Because they think they are invulnerable, that they are immortal. They do not know the reality, they are sheltered, they were kept safe.

The elders always sneered, war-weary and tired and feeling their bones crack and the blood rush like blazing fire through their veins as they remember the past were a coddled child was always the first ones to be buried in the ancestral hall.

Children always argued, said they were old enough, and that they knew enough, and that they were strong enough to handle the horrors their predecessors had faced. Always, always the words come out of their mouth are promises they have yet to fully understand until it is far too late.

 

* * *

 

 

Lan Jingyi is the first to go.

It happens in Yi City, when Hangguang-Jun, Lan Wangji, the Second Master of Lan is busy battling a demonic cultivator and “Mo Xuanyu” is busying trying to get his bearings in the fog covered street and get the juniors to move together.

It is a redirected blow of resentful energy that pushes Lan Jingyi farther from the group, and into the arms of undead. A choked scream escapes his mouth as sharp teeth bite into his shoulder. He fights and struggles, and he chokes as he inhales mouthfuls of corpse poisoned air.

Lan Sizhui’s screams pierced the air the same time Lan Jingyi’s does, and continue long after, alone.

At the end of the battle, the group returns to Gusu with a youngster, shrouded in white cloth, and returns him to his parents. Dressed in white, hands shaking, and breath ragged, the mother carefully holds her son and cries while the father cradles them all in his arms.

“A’Yi was just a boy.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lan Sizhui is the next to go.

He pushes himself in the way to protect his Xian-gege. He lets the blade pierce and feels the rush of blood from his open injury gush out and drip down white robes and stain the floor. He barely has time to react before his body drops to the floor, and he only has enough consciousness, enough strength, left in him to turn towards his father with a weak, but repentant smile and say, “Sorry”.

At the end of the siege, the voices of slaughtered Wens entrench the place as they all cry for the final Wen, the last Wen, of little A’Yuan. The ghosts cry and scream and there is one that continues to scream for their child, the little Wen who ran around the Burial Mounds and brought childish cheer and joy in a time of mourning and death… the only one to escape, to now be rejoined with the rest of his family.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji carry the fallen child with them as they leave.

 

* * *

 

 

The last is Jin Ling, and Jiang Cheng’s screams still haunt them all every night.

Little Jin Ling who got in the way, the embodiment of his father and uncle’s pride, who’d rather die than run, who didn’t move fast enough to escape the death grip of a fierce corpse. Little Jin Ling, who’s only two friends die before him, who looks at his uncles with undisguised fear and tears.

Everyone works quickly to rid themselves of Nie Mingjue’s fierce corpse, and there are tears running down Jiang Cheng’s face as he tries to save his nephew, his only family left to him in this world, the only remains of his gentle older sister.

He presses his hands on the wounds and threatens and screams then cries and begs Jin Ling to stay awake, to not go, that he will stop threatening to break his legs, that he’ll take him on more night hunts, that he’ll do anything and everything but please for the love of god don’t die.

And Jin Ling looks at his uncle with a weakened expression and his own tears running down, but he holds his Uncle’s hand and quietly cries himself, words slipping from his mouth as he struggles to breathe. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t, I’m sorry.

And Jiang Cheng is too familiar with death to not realize the implications of the words said. So he chokes back his tears and tells him how proud he is, how he was so happy that Jin Ling grew up to be smart and talented and that his mother and father would’ve been so proud.

He goes over fond memories with his nephew, of bringing him to Lotus Pier when the boy was finally old enough to toddle on his own two legs. Of teaching him to swim in the lake, of teaching him how to use a sword. He continues telling stories as his grip on his nephew’s hand never slackens.

He tells Jin Ling about his parents. About the prideful peacock that was his father and how much they didn’t get along when they were younger, but Jin Zixuan was a man of morals and wouldn’t let people suffer unjustly. How the man was a blushing maiden as he proposed to his sister and how the man cried when he first held Jin Ling in his arms for the first time.

He tells him of his gentle and kind-hearted mother, how she could never bring herself to be angry for herself but willing to put herself on the line for those she loved. How she cared for everyone as dearly as if they were her closest friend, how much love she had on her face as she held Jin Ling in her arms. How much his parents undoubtedly love him and are proud of him.

Jin Ling listens and lets it lull him into peace, lets his uncle’s grip be the last thing he remembers even as he feels the subtle panic and cold that pulses through his body as he realizes he can no longer feel the warmth of Jiang Cheng’s hand. He says nothing. He has his Uncle keep talking, struggles to listen to him to the very end.

Jin Ling’s hand slackens, and Jiang Cheng howls as the boy he raised passes away in his arms.


	3. My Younger Brother (Ft. Nie Mingjue)

Nie Mingjue stared at the raging child and breathed deeply. He carried the tray into the room, avoiding the knocked over paintings, destroyed cabinets, and many, many fragments of fans and plates that his brother had thrown at him.

_Nie Mingjue pulled Baxia out of Wen Ruohan’s chest and smirked as the body fell to the floor with a satisfying thump. He heard the patter of feet and recalled that Meng Yao was supposed to return with his didi when it was safe._

_He turned his head, and felt relief pour over him as he saw his brother running to him. The eyebags under his eyes and pale pallor were things he already knew about, but seeing it in person was something else. He sheathed Baxia as he stepped forward, a hand reaching out to embrace his younger brother (captured, tortured, poor little A’Sang who did nothing wrong but be his brother) before being harshly avoided._

_Nie Mingjue stared, throat dry and arms empty and confused because Huaisang dropped to the floor beside Wen Ruohan’s corpse and screamed at him._

_“What did you do?!”_

Nie Mingjue made his way to the bed, placed the tray on the bedside table, and ignored the bloodshot gaze that leveled itself at him as he gently arranged the food. He took the spoon and dipped it into the porridge and brought it to Huaisang’s lips. He tried to ignore the way he strained against the bindings, the rope burns on his arms and the way Huaisang tried to put as much distance between them.

He pressed the spoon closer and Huaisang struggled to pull away from him.

“You haven’t eaten in two days.”

A vitriolic glare, “I’d rather die than accept anything from you.” 

_“Let me go! I’d rather die than go anywhere with you!”_

_“Nie Huaisang!”_

_“My name is Wen Huaisang, you murderous scum!”_

“If you don’t eat, you’ll starve then die. How does that help you in any way?”

“Accepting food from my father’s killer would be spitting on his grave. Ah, I forgot, you didn’t even let me give him a proper funeral. You just threw him in with the other dead members of my sect in some ditch somewhere.”

“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, voice harsh and he instantly berates himself seeing the flinch that his brother barely held back.

He pauses, unsure and dreading and wishing that his mother was alive, either one of them. They’d know what to do. Even Father would know how to handle this better than he does.

_But they’re dead._

_You’re the only one Huaisang has left._ Nie Mingjue sucks in a deep breath, calming his nerves and ignoring the way Huaisang watches him with sharp, distrusting eyes as he puts the spoon back into the bowl.

“You do no one any favors by dying.”

He turned to him, voice filled with nothing but hatred, “You do me no favors by  _pretending to be my brother_ _._ “


	4. Who am I? (Ft. Nie Huaisang)

_The Nightless City has fallen._

That’s the news Wen Huaisang received as he sat on the bed, one leg chained to the post and his arms bound in rope (enough room to move but not loose enough to let him escape), from one of the servants that the murderous scum has attending to him.

There’s an odd feeling that rumbles in his chest as he hears the news. It starts out slow, small, as insignificant as a fly on the wall. He lets the news pass over him because he already knew that with the fall of his illustrious father, the rest of the Wen sect stood no chance.

Not with every member of the main house slaughtered, and only Wen Ruohan’s youngest son, his young son he just recently rescued from the despicable Nie Sect before his untimely demise, held captive by barbarians who took to hunting Wen Dogs for sport.

Nie Mingjue makes no effort to hide his loathing for the Wen sect, and Wen Huaisang can only wonder about his own future.

 

* * *

 

_“Xiao Sang,” Father’s voice is warm as he reached over, carefully tugging loose strands of hair away from his face and petting his head. “Xiao Sang, Father is so sorry that he only rescued you now. I tried to rescue your brothers from them but I was unable to- I wasn’t even sure if you had survived, but when I saw you in Sect Leader Nie’s tent, I knew I had to rescue you no matter the cost.”_

_Wen Huaisang listens quietly. Lets his father grieve, and frown, and glare, and hiss. He wonders if he ever saw Father like this before. Father was usually so proud and dominant, stood taller than everyone and commanded the attention of the room without even trying._

_His head hurts._

_“Father failed you.”_

_“Father rescued me,” Huaisang said softly. He lowered his head, leans his head into his father’s palm and continues, “Father rescued this worthless son who got captured. I brought shame to the Wen name for my actions. If it weren’t for me, Xu-dage-”_

_“Xu’er went to the Nie camp to try and rescue you.”_

_Huaisang looks up, gulps, and looks down again. Father’s eyes were glinting in that scary red light he remembered seeing the last week._

_“Xu’er tried to rescue you because you are his little brother.” Wen Ruohan shifts his hand, uses a sharp nail to hold Huaisang’s chin in place as he shifts his attention to the war table. Ah, ah, he can see it. The enemy camps and Wen forces, all scattered along the board in formations and battle plans and bloody trenches that mark the whole of China._

_“Xiao Sang, do you know what those beasts did to your brothers? To your Xu-dage and Chao-erge?”_

_Wen Huaisang nods. This is one of the few things he remembers clearly. His lips wobble as he recalls the memory of Xu-dage’s death. So violent, so bloody. He remembers seeing Xu-dage’s head planted on a pike along with several other heads at the borders of the Nie camp. He remembers the barbarian Sect Leader Nie order his men to grind the bodies into dust and spread toss it into the grounds below._

_At least Xu-dage went quickly, Huaisang thinks to himself quietly. At least he didn’t have to suffer any more than he already did. Chao-erge, no matter how cruel, got off far, far worst with the Yiling Patriarch chasing after him till–_

_“Breathe, Huaisang.”_

_Wen Huaisang breathes deeply, a choked sound that leaves him startled as he didn’t realize he hadn’t been breathing. His father pulls away and Huaisang almost chases after his father’s hand. Father’s warm hand that always protected him, that always kept him safe until the Nie barbarians stole him._

_“I will be busy attending to the forces.”_

_His father is a busy man yet he still made the time to rescue him, the useless youngest son who got captured by enemy forces and brought him back to Nightless City. Who helped him through the harrowing first week of recuperating on the many, many wounds inflicted by the Sect Leader Nie who found sick delight in torturing him. Huaisang recalls memories of the same barbarian telling him to raise his sword, to do better, that if he doesn’t do better he’s going to end up skewered on a sword and it’d be no one’s fault but his own._

_~~And yet Huaisang has memories of the same barbarian holding him as he cries his eyes out and mourning for someone. Someone who is long gone and he can’t remember their face anymore. He has memories of the man sitting at his bedside and fussing over him because he’s feverish and grumpily, but gently spooning porridge into his mouth as he tells him to get better soon~~ _

_“Xiao Sang.”_

_Huaisang looks up. His father’s eyes are sharp and observant and look at him quietly. Whatever he is looking for, he seems to find it because he nods to himself._

_“Until then, stay in your room and let the physicians tend to you. Father will make sure the beasts suffer for what they have done.”_

_“Yes, Father.”_

_It is the last time they speak._

_Wen Huaisang is ~~relieved~~  horrified to see his father’s corpse and the bloody, smirking ~~Gege~~  Nie barbarian standing over it._

_He runs to his brother’s arms to his father and collapses to his knees as he tries to stop the bleeding._

_His ~~kidnapper, tormentor~~  father’s eyes stare back at him, shrouded and glassy._

_**“What have you done?!”**   ~~Who is he shouting at?~~_

 

* * *

 

Huaisang stares at the porridge bowl quietly as Sect Leader Nie storms out of the room. Clearly, his infamous temper has gotten the better of him and Huaisang is more than delighted to be rid of his presence. 

The feeling returns and Huaisang tries to stifle it. He searches around the room, looking for something else to focus on other than the feeling that twists his stomach and makes him want to scream.

I am Wen  ~~Nie~~  Huaisang. I am the youngest son of ~~the former Sect Leader Nie~~  Wen Ruohan, the leader of the Qishan Wen Sect  ~~murdered my Father for having a nicer Dao sword than him~~.

My older brothers were murdered by the allied sects trying to rescue me  ~~my older brother stormed Nightless City on his own to rescue me~~.

The remainders of my sect are being hunted down for sport.

~~I was kidnapped and tortured and played with until-~~

~~Nie,~~   ~~ _Wen_ ,~~  _Huaisang_  chokes as reaches over and picks up the bowl of porridge for himself, trying to busy himself and ignore the creeping dread that rises He quietly spoons the porridge into the mouth and frowns. He feels his eyes burn and he quickly rubs at it, and only more tears flow down.

“I don’t know who I am anymore…”


	5. Delivery Room (Ft. Wen Qing)

Wen Qing is more of a physician than a cultivator. Her specialty is the human body and how to heal it, but that doesn’t make her any less capable than the rest of her fellow Wen cultivators.

Rather, it makes her more dangerous. The silver lining in all her days of grueling study sessions and countless hours of turning theory into practice at the behest of her Sect Leader, who wishes to cultivate her skills as much as possible, had earned her a prestigious and valuable position in the Wen clan.

She’s a lauded genius, but one who is kept firmly in the sanctuary that is the Nightless City.

She has few people she relies on, and triple that when it came to those who depended on her. Being the on-hand healer (and a considerably good one, at that) she isn’t surprised when one of her relatives comes to her with worries about their ailments. What does surprise her though, is when her aunt comes to her because she wants her to handle her pregnancy.

She wasn’t accustomed to handling pregnancies, but there is always a first time for everything. Besides, its her dear aunt, the one who’s taken care of her and her brother since their parents died, who is requesting her services. Who was she to deny her after everything she did for them?

Aunt Wen’s health is subpar, so of course, Wen Qing makes preparations. She consoles herself that nothing would go wrong. She was the best healer in their sect and she was barely in her twenties. She could do this.

Then the day comes, and every horrible thing that can happen happens.

 

* * *

 

The baby comes early, far, far too early.

Wen Qing struggles to keep her aunt stable as she reminds her to push, to steady her breathing. There is a midwife in the room, carefully watching and directing everyone around in a semblance of order in the chaos of the delivery room. There is blood. Far, far too much blood.

As if things aren’t hard enough, her aunt lapses into a qi deviation due to all her stress.

Wen Qing grapples with her aunt’s hands that flail about with sharp nails with deadly strength that belied her fragile appearance. She, along with three others, struggle to keep her pinned to the bed.

She flinches when she feels sharp nails dig into the skin of her neck and tear downwards, leaving a bloody trail in its wake.

“She’s too far gone! Get the baby out now!”

For the first time in her life, Wen Qing freezes in the middle of an operation.

She struggles to breathe and move, and she can hear people shout at her to hurry. She feels like she twelve again, like it’s her first time on the field with her mother, and trying to stop someone from bleeding to death. Her hand shakes and she screams at herself to move, because  _goddamnit_  that’s her aunt and her husband was already lost to a night hunt already, she doesn’t want another kid to _end up orphans like her and A'Ning._

Her famously steady hands shake viciously as she tries to continue the procedure. She hastens her movements because that is safer than the shakiness of slow-moving hands. She cuts the umbilical cord and her heart is pounding in her ears. She can hear everyone screaming but all she can focus on is how the baby in her arms is not screaming.

Someone takes the baby from her arms and Wen Ning almost screams because he’s not screaming, he’s not making a sound, _why, why, why, **why?!**_

  
Wen Qing turns around just in time to see her aunt trashing in the hold of her subordinates and she glances in the direction of the baby and the elderly Wen midwife who quickly shoves her off.

  
“Help her!”

  
She moves, her hands circulating qi and she attempts to press her hands on her aunt only to be pushed away. The screams are inhuman, and grate on her ears and makes her want to run and hide behind her mother’s robes like she did when she was little and the first time she witnessed qi deviation up close.

  
Wen Qing puts her hands on her aunt and struggles to win a losing battle. She’s superior in terms of cultivational abilities, but she’s fighting someone with years of experience and qi deviation backing them up.

  
She feels the chaotic war of push and pulls turn into a receding tide.

  
Wen Qing continues circulating Qi. Chases the tide with all her might as she frantically tries to pull it back. She struggles to clear muddled meridians and grasp the tide that moves quicker than she can channel her qi.

  
Wen Qing is not pulled off of her aunt’s body. Wen Qing stands there, chasing life and fighting death, and everyone else can only watch silently.

Someone- one of her uncles- come close and gently places a hand on her shoulder, tugs at her and pulls the soul weary girl away from her aunt’s cooling corpse.

“Wen Qing, there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

The consolations sound empty to her ears.

She is looked over, examined, and pulled out of the room.

“The first loss is always the hardest.”

She doesn’t look at anyone.

“You did your best”

_What is the use of “your best” if it still failed?_

  
“No one could’ve saved her.”

  
I should’ve. I should’ve even if it meant I would _die_ doing it.

  
“Jiejie?”

  
She turns her head, seeing A'Ning look up at her. 

“Jiejie, are you…”

  
She looks at her brother. So small, so frail. So easily bullied. She remembers fighting their cousin Wen Chao to lay off of him. Know its only her superior cultivation skills, her value to the clan that allows her to dissuade anyone from taking any action against A'Ning.

  
A'Ning, who she had to protect ever since their parents died. A'Ning, who cried for ten days straight when their parents died.

~~_What about that baby, then? The one who their aunt died giving birth to?_ ~~

  
“A'Ning, what are you doing out of bed?”

 

* * *

   
A week later, the funeral for their aunt is held.

  
But only two hours after all the madness in the delivery room does the old Wen midwife come up to Wen Qing, asking her, as the next of kin, to name her aunt’s child.

  
Wen Qing looks at the baby quietly.

  
“Wen Yuan.”


	6. Why Can't You Love Me Back? (Ft. Madam Yu)

Once, long ago, she had asked him that question.

Once, long ago, he gave her an answer so blatantly a lie she stormed out on him.

Since then, she had learned to shove it to the back of her mind. Yet, the thought has lingered like a treacherous snake, jaws wide open and poised to strike.

It’s a thought she buries deep into the depths of her mind. She already knew the answer, and she promised herself she would not spill a tear for him again.

Never again.

Not for a man whose heart belongs so wholly to another, to someone who married her out of duty to his clan, who chose filial piety over his own interests, who pursued and courted her while thinking of another, who held her and wished for another… She promised herself to never cry for him.

~~She gave him everything and he still wished for the other.~~

She is the only one in this relationship who keeps their promises. The only one who believed and followed the rites.

Yet, there was the persistent wonder, the wonder of why it was so difficult for him to release himself from the past, from the infatuation with a woman who was never his. The wonder came every day she caught him staring into the distance, with that same longing gaze ever since he got the news so many, many years ago.

_Why can’t you just let her go?_

She turned away, quiet, and observed the people in front of her with a critical eye while her mind wandered.

 _It’s so difficult to concentrate, isn’t it?_  The insidious voice in her head croons. Laughs. Such a proud woman reduced to a jealous wife. A wife with no methods to keep her husband from straying.

Shut up.

She stands, her movements swift as she leaves the room. Two maids, her handmaidens, accompany her without batting an eyelash.

_Stupid, foolish woman. Pining after a man who only fed you lies._

_Shut up._

_Jealous, proud, vapid woman._

_How could your husband ever love you?_

She narrows her eyes.

How could he ever love you when he is so in love with the other? A kind, gentle, loving woman who is as free as the birds.

She hears the scream of children and pauses, turns around and observes the scenery. Kites flying in the sky like freed birds before being shot down by arrows.

Her eyes narrow at the site, and she stalks towards the river.

Her hand twitches, and she feels the flicker of lightning in her palm and she smothers it by closing her fist.

_He doesn’t even love the children you had given him, how could you ever be loved by him?_

She reaches the rier, and glares at what she finds.

_Oh, oh, but that child… that woman’s child, how he adores him so…_

The children come up from the river, guilty and soaked and fearful. Her gaze hardens at the sopping mess that clings to her own son’s body.

_You already knew, didn’t you?_

Compared to her  _ ~~beautiful, free, the personification of everything she could never offer, the one whose smile is a searing burn that stabs relentlessly as she stares back at her husband’s eyes~~_  you are nothing to him.

_Why was her child a genius? ~~Why are her’s so disappointing?~~_

_Why did he have to bring him into their lives?_

She raises her voice, enraged as she scolds. She ignoresvenomousemous voice that sings sweetly into her ears.

_He cannot love you back because you are what imprisons him in a world he wanted to abandon._

_You are his chains._

She stares at the culprit of it all, dressed in red and black and as sopping wet as the rest of them.

Those grey eyes  ~~ _so much like his mother’s, too much like the eyes of the one who’s life felt like mockery to her own_~~  stared back.

~~_Why can’t you love me back?_ ~~

~~_You already know the answer._ ~~


	7. Childhood Sweethearts (Ft. Lan Sizhui)

_Living in the Cloud Recesses was like being thrown into a lake full of piranhas with an open wound._

_If piranhas found you by your blood, then the Lans found you through your disgrace._

It was always difficult.

Being prim and proper, abiding by ridiculous sect rules day and night, living up to the expectations that everyone had of him (because he's the son of Hangguang-Jun and if Sect Leader Lan doesn't have a child, he's the successor to that title). It was difficult, but he did his best.

Shouldn't that have made others like him?

He did his best, he succeeded.

He followed the rules as best as he could, even when he desperately wanted not to. He followed even when the other disciples entered their rebellious phases and bent the rules this way and that, reinterpreting and reimagining the situations to sneak out of trouble. There were even those who blatantly broke the rules and would drag others down with them to the Punishment Hall.

He should've been more accepted, but instead, he felt isolated.

Where were his so-called friends when he needed them?

Why was he always the one they went to when they needed a shoulder to cry on when they had troubles, or when they needed help, but they were rarely ever there for him?

_Lan Sizhui is such a great person, is there really anything that we could do for him that he couldn't do on his own?_

No matter what he did, he couldn't win.

If he tried to act more his age, if he tried to follow the others in their games and trips to town, the adults would immediately frown at him and mutter about how bad of an influence the others were.

And if the adults found it particularly displeasing, they'd begin scolding the others.

_Do not drag Hangguang-Jun's child to your level! How disgraceful!_

_You should all strive to be more like him, don't corrupt him with your influences!_

The others spurned having him in their company during leisure times.

_Oh, sorry, Sizhui. We already have enough players. Maybe next time?_

_I think there's too many going already. We can try again next time?_

_Ah, it was supposed to be a private thing, you know? We didn't want too many people to come._

_Don't you have something to do with Hangguang-Jun? You don't have to come with us._

Why was he always excluded?

Why did everyone want nothing to do with him?

_...Father?_

_Mhn?_

_Can... ~~Can I go with you? Can you please stay this time? Can you please stop leaving me alone here to go out somewhere else? Can you please stop making me feel so lonely even though you're right in front of me?~~_

_Sizhui?_

_...Nothing, sorry. Can you teach me how to play the guqin again?_

_Mhn._

It was a lonely childhood.

Until...

_You! What's your name?_

_Ah... Huh? Me?_

_Yeah! I don't see any other kids around here! What's your name?_

_Oh- oh. My name is Lan Sizhui, and you are?_

_My name is Lan Jingyi! Do you want to play with me?_

_Eh?_

_You don't want to?_

_No, no! I want to!_

_Haha, great! There's this spot in the back of the mountains that we can go play in away from the seniors and elders' notice! Let's go!_

_Wait for me!_

 

* * *

 

 

Lan Jingyi was his first friend.

Lan Jingyi was the only who didn't stay away from him or expected anything from him.

He only asked him to be a friend he could talk to normally.

_... A'Yi._

_Huh? Sizhui, what did you call me?_

_Ah- I'm sorry, it just slipped out._

_No, no. It's fine! Hah, I didn't know we were that close yet. If you want to call me A'Yi, then can I call you Gege? You are older than me after all._

Lan Sizhui swore his face was burning.

_Of course, go ahead, A'Yi._

_Alright then, that settles it! Oh, but we should probably only do that in private. I'm pretty sure there's a rule somewhere that bans nicknames. This stays between us, okay?_

_It'll be our secret._

Lan Sizhui felt the familiar burn every time he remembered that. Every time he and A'Yi would be alone together and he'd call him 'Gege'.

_Sizhui, do you want to come with us?_

_Ah, sorry. I'm going out with Jingyi today._

_Again? You guys spend an awful lot of time together recently._

_Haha... Ah, there's Jingyi, I have to go._

_Well then, take care._

_..._

_Oh, Sizhui, what's up?_

_A'Yi, are you busy today?_

_Not really, why?_

_My father gave me permission to go down to town today. Do you want to come with me?_

_A trip to Caiyi? Sure!_

 

* * *

 

 

If it meant A'Yi would be happy, Lan Sizhui was happy to pester his father to give him permission to head to Caiyi. If A'Yi wanted it, he would even sneak him out of the Cloud Recesses.

Because A'Yi was his first friend. So naturally, A'Yi deserved the best of everything.

When they head to the Mo VIllage, A'Yi was beside him, excitedly chattering about their first time doing an exorcism without a senior accompanying them. He happily listened to his friend, calmly indulging his friend.

Who knew that that would be the starting point of all the messes later on in their life?

But he was grateful, he was completely grateful. That lunatic cut-sleeve from Mo Village turned out to be his Xian-gege, and with him back his dear father finally stopped mourning him.

Everything got worse, so, so much worse, but they got better in the end.

And if A'Yi clung to him a little too tightly during Yi City when he saw the ghosts, well, _he wasn't going to complain._

But now... why did it feel like he was losing A'Yi?

 

* * *

 

 

"Was that Young Master Jin just then?"

"Oh, Gege!" A'Yi turned to him, a bright smile on his youthful features. Lan Sizhui felt himself soften at the sight of his friend's unadulterated joy.

Before pure, malicious jealousy wormed its way into his heart and replace his gentle feelings with cold anger.

He smiled kindly, "What were you two doing?"

"The Young Miss and I just came back from a trip to town together. You should've seen his face when some girls came up to us and started flirting with him! It was priceless!" A'Yi laughed loudly as he went over and took a seat near his friend.

Lan Sizhui poured his friend a drink.

"Oh, you're indulging me today?"

"When am I not, at this point?" Lan Sizhui teased as he shook his head. "Be more mindful of the time, you two came back so late. If Young Master Jin was truly a girl, you'd have caused a rumor to spread."

"Awww, Jin Ling is a guy, it's fine. I call him 'mistress' all the time but you don't have to worry! If that was really the case, then I'll just marry her and that will solve everything!"

_CRASH._

"Ah, how clumsy of me..."

"Woah! Gege, are you okay? Here, I'll help you clean up."

"Ah, thank you, A'Yi."

Lan Sizhui smiled gently at his friend who was busily picking up the broken shards of the jar. He quietly pressed a cloth into A'Yi's hands and helped him.

Not too long later, his eyes wander to the shopping bags A'Yi had brought back, and he felt his mood sour.

"A'Yi, you've gotten a lot closer with Young Master Jin recently. Tell me, do you have a crush on him?"

Lan Sizhui expected A'Yi to sputter and deny that statement. Expected him to get just a _tiny bit_ upsetwith him over the implication of being a cutsleeve. Oh, neither of them minded cutsleeves, after all, Hangguang-Jun and Senior Wei were and happily acted grossly in front of them, but being implied as one had always upset A'Yi.

Lan Sizhui ignores the painful squeeze whenever he remembers that fact.

He doesn't expect the crimson blush that spreads across his friend's face like wildfire. He didn't expect the surprised squeak that escapes A'Yi's mouth.

"A'Yi?"

"Am I that obvious?"

_"...What?"_

"It's just... Haha, it would sound so ridiculous, but I think Jin Ling is the only one who appreciates me for me- Ah! Not that you don't but it feels different with him..."

Lan Sizhui felt his heart shatter.

"I thought you _liked girls._ "

"It's not like I ever had a girlfriend before, and it's Jin Ling! There's just something different about this- Wait. Oh gods how obvious was I?! Gege, when did you notice?!"

He pauses and takes a deep breath.

He lets himself feel the heartbreak, lets himself touch on the jagged edges of the fresh wound and mourn. He lets the full force of this indirect rejection stab him as deeply as it wants, and brutally as it can.

Then he exhales, and he smiles.

He carefully tucks the broken pieces deep into himself, so deep that no one but himself would be able to see it.

A'Yi tells him when he fell in love. Recounts the experience to him like its an ancient, revered scripture.

Lan Sizhui feels his eyes burn but he keeps the smile on his face as he listens.

"It was when we were night hunting a few weeks ago. Remember when we got split up? It was around that time."

 

* * *

 

 

_"Calm down, Mistress Jin!"_

_"Gods, you're so annoying! I thought Lan disciples were supposed to be well-behaved!"_

_"Well, I've never really been good at that."_

_'I noticed. Whatever, at least its better than you acting like a stick in the mud."_

_"You... don't mind?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"Me, acting like this, you don't mind?"_

_"Oh, don't get me wrong, you're annoying, but it's preferable to you pretending to be a good disciple of Lan."_

_"Ah.... but, I suppose the Mistress Jin prefers I be more like Lan Sizhui, don't you?"_

_"You! Stop calling me Mistress Jin! I'm a guy!"_

_"I'm right, aren't I?"_

_"You're wrong!"_

_"What?"_

_"You're you. Why would I ask you to ever be someone else?"_

_"..."_

_"Oi! What's with that stupid look on your face?"_   
  
_"It's nothing. You're surprisingly kind, huh."_   
  
_"What is that supposed to mean?!"_   
  
_"Nothing, nothing! Let's get back to the others before they come looking for us. Here, I'll carry the loot."_   
  
_"Wha- Fine! Keep your secrets! Hmph."_   
  
_"Haha!"_

* * *

 

"I remember."

Lan Sizhui smiled kindly.

Inside, he is screaming.

_I told you every day that you didn't have to change._ _I did everything I could to show you how much I appreciated you._ _I always said that you were good as you were now, that you never needed to change yourself._

_Why?_

Lan Sizhui struggles to keep his breathing steady as he smiles at his friend. "And then?"

_Why is it that only a few words from Jin Ling mean more to you than everything I ever did?_

"Sizhui, I'm not sure about his feelings so... Could you maybe try and gauge them for me?"

Lan Sizhui stares at him, smile soft and gentle.

_It's not fair. A'Yi doesn't play fair._

"Sure, A'Yi."

_How can I say no when you look at me so earnestly like that?_

_Because A'Yi deserves the world. Because A'Yi brought warmth into his life, he would give absolutely anything to hand give that back._

_Because A'Yi's happiness meant more to him than his own ever would._

"You mean it? Thanks, Gege!"

_Even if it breaks my heart a million times over, I will do anything for you._

 

* * *

 

It's surprisingly difficult to find a way to get alone with Jin Ling.

His overprotective uncle was one point he was aware of, but he had really forgotten that Jin Ling was the heir of his sect, and due to inherit the position of Sect Leader in less than four years.

But, still, Lan Sizhui is nothing if not determined. Especially when it's A'Yi's happiness at stake.

It's times like these, where he's required to be observant of the situation, that he notices odd quirks and such about the people around him.

For example, Jin Ling had a habit of twitching and raising his chin at anyone who seemed to challenge him, and a habit of using his uncle as a shield when he thought people were too dangerous.

Rough, harsh little things that really highlighted his spoiled upbringing.

Lan Sizhui also notices how much Jin Ling loves to ignore all the signs of blatant affection from A'Yi.

If it was him, he wouldn't ignore it. If it was him, he wouldn't make A'Yi so sad. If it was him, he'd sing A'Yi's praises every day and every hour even if it would ruin his throat permanently.

No matter what A'Yi did, the Young Master of Jin would either ignore him or harshly rebuff him. There was never a time that Jin Ling ever seemed grateful for A'Yi's kindness or affection.

~~He wants to wrap his hands around Jin Ling's neck and _squeeze._~~

Lan Sizhui tells himself it's fine, that its merely the way Jin Ling acts. He's probably flustered and unsure of how to respond to such earnest affections.

So long as Jin Ling returned his friend's affections, eventually.

Lan Sizhui turns around and smiles at Jin Ling, who seemed... antsy, for some reason. He files the observation away for later analyzation and smiles.

"Ah, Jin Ling, shall we go now?"

"Yeah, yeah."

_I must've committed a great sin in my past life._

It's all that Lan Sizhui can think of in this situation. In this horrible, messed-up situation.

He feels his smile begin to fade from his face as he looks at Jin Ling, who stutters, face a bright shade of red, but looking at him determinedly.

“So...?”

_What do you expect him to answer?_

“Sizhui... do you like me too?”

Lan Sizhui wanted to _laugh_ at his situation.

_Why couldn't you have fallen for A'Yi?_

"I'm sorry, Young Master Jin. I-" _loathe you_ "don't feel the same way."

~~Why are you hurting A'Yi?~~

"Oh... That- that's fine. Sorry about that."

Jin Ling turns away, and Lan Sizhui calmly looks away from him. Frankly, the Lan doesn’t care much for what's going through the younger boy's head. He’s more concerned about what to do when he gets back to the Cloud Recesses.

_A’Yi would be so upset..._

“Let’s just finish our shopping trip and return to the seniors, okay?”

“... Okay.”

That should've been the end of it.

~~_He really should've just told A'Yi the whole truth._ ~~

 

* * *

 

A week from that day, Jin Ling barges into his room at the Cloud Recesses with the coldest expression he had ever seen.

"Jin Ling told me what happened."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Lan Sizhui asked calmly, ignoring the rude intrusion of his friend in his private quarters.

"He confessed to you that day."

Lan Sizhui stumbled from shock.

_Why on earth did he tell A'Yi?_

Lan Sizhui scrambled, nearly tripping on his way to get to his friend.

A'Yi affixed a deadly glare at him that made him stop dead in his tracks.

"He confessed to you that day and you rejected him, that is the story that Jin Ling told me." A'Yi shook, glaring at him, and a low hiss escaped from his mouth, "Why did you lie when you said he didn't like me back?"

"That... It wasn't a lie..."

"You told me that he was engaged with some girl because of his obligations as a sect leader! Why did you have to lie about that?!"

"He was going to have to marry a girl anyways. And if you thought you couldn't have him because he was straight, it would've hurt you less than if you knew he loved someone else."

_It's a weak excuse. It's the weakest excuse ever. You just wanted A'Yi to never consider him as a partner again._

"I'm sorry... I just didn't want you to get hurt."

Against all his expectations, A'Yi _laughed_.

"I could've lived with him liking someone else. I'm not that pathetic."

"That wasn't my intention..."

"You know what hurts? What hurts me is that my _best friend,_ who I trusted more than anyone, who I trusted with something I felt so personal and important to me, _lied straight to my face about it._ " A'Yi laughed coldly.

The laughter was painfully dull.

"A'Yi, I'm so sorry-"

" _Stop calling me A'Yi._ " He hissed. Lan Sizhui froze, his heart full of dread. "You lost the right to that when you lied to me."

"A'Yi, please-"

"Shut up!" He screamed. "You lied to my face without thinking twice! You let me think he was engaged! You let me find out on my own that not only was Jin Ling  _not_ engaged but that he had  _confessed to you!_ Do you know how insulting that is?! That you think so little of me that you would lie to _'spare'_ my feelings?!"

"I care about you, that's why I did it!"

"Liar!"

"No! A'Yi please just listen! You've always been enough! Your all I've ever wanted! _I love you!_ "

Lan Sizhui screamed. Desperately.

 “I love you, I love you so much. I've been in love with you since we were kids. You’ve always been there for me. You’re the only one who never put expectations on me, the only one who didn’t say I should be better because I was Hangguang-Jun’s son. You were my first friend and I fell in love with you and I got scared that you were going to leave me. I lied- I lied to you, A'Yi, but I didn't mean to hurt you. Please, please...” Lan Sizhui rambled as fast as he could as he walked closer A'Yi. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I was scared. I didn't want to lose you."

A'Yi looked at him, and Lan Sizhui swore that he could hear the blood pounding through his ears as he confessed everything to his friend.

To the one he loved the most in this world.

A'Yi gave him one last look. Not happy, not sad, not angry. Just a placid look filled with displeasure. 

"You don't lie to the people you love, Sizhui."

"W-wait-"

"Goodbye."

Lan Sizhui stared dumbly as Lan Jingyi walked out of his room.

He felt his eyes burn, then fat, salty tears run down his face.

"I didn't... I didn't mean to... A'Yi, please..."

_I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Please don't leave me._

_I don't want to be alone anymore, please... please come back._


	8. All Alone (Ft. Jin Guangyao / Meng Yao)

“Why do you wait for him?”

 

“Because he promised to come back.”

 

“But its been years.”

 

“Love remains steadfast.”

 

“How many have said those words to you? How many keep their promises after daylight?”

 

“When did this mother teach you to talk back to her that way?! Hmph! Be lucky you’re so small- Otherwise I’d hit you for that!”

 

“Mama has never hit me before, and she never will!”

 

“Ha! How confident! Just cause you’re the son of someone important doesn’t mean this mother won’t discipline you.”

 

“No, that’s not why.”

 

“Oh? And what’s the reason?”

 

“Because Mama loves me!”

 

“Cocky brat. Get to bed. Mother will wake you up for breakfast.”

 

“Okay. Goodnight, Mama. I love you.”

 

“Goodnight, A’Yao. Mama loves you too.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Mama, please stop waiting for him.”

 

“I can’t, A’Yao.”

 

“Why?”

 

“A’Yao, you know why.”

 

“Mama, please take care of yourself.”

 

“Mama, please take some more medicine. I prepared a meal for you.”

 

“Mama, please rest more.”

 

“A’Yao… you know what is going to happen.”

 

“I don’t. I don’t, I don’t know-“

 

“A’Yao… Mama is sorry.”

 

“No, no, no, please don’t say that. Please don’t say that. Mama,  _mama, please_ -“

 

“Take this pearl. Your father gave it to me many years ago, when he promised me he would one day return… travel to Lanling… your father is the leader of the sect there, one of the peony flowers and bright yellow…”

 

“… Mama… I want to stay with you…”

 

“A’Yao, please. I want to at least rest knowing your father has taken care of you.”

 

“Please don’t make me leave you. Not now. Please.”

 

“Mama cannot provide you everything, not like your father can. By the benevolence of the gods, I only wish for you to have a brighter future than I can give.”

 

“Mama…”

 

“… I don’t want to leave you, A’Yao… but mama isn’t strong enough to stay… I’m sorry.”

 

* * *

 

“Mama, you were wrong.”

 

“Mama, he didn’t love you.”

 

“Mama, the pearl he gave is one of thousands…”

 

“Mama, you wasted away for a man who doesn’t remember you.”

“Mama… Mama, A’Yao is all alone…”


	9. Filial Piety (Ft. Jiang Yanli)

Jiang Yanli loves her family.

 

They took care of her, they fed her, they clothed her, and they kept a roof over her head. They provided everything she could ever need and want.

 

Her father was always busy, but she remembers the earlier days were he fretted and fawned over her, barely able to stay more than a few meters away from his first born. The reluctance on her father's face whenever he was required to be gone for long periods of time. He gradually became more busy over the years, but he retained the gentle care and love for her.

 

Her mother was far more intense, far more invested. Her mother loved her, loved her children with all the strength of a lightning bolt, and wanted the best for them and of them.

 

They were, objectively, good parents.

 

Jiang Yanli went through numerous hours of training and classes to reach her mother's expectations. That was to be expected. She was the first born, the product of her father and mother's union.

 

And truly, it was a blow to the heart to learn that her potential fell unbelievably below standards, considering her parentage. That she would never advance beyond mediocrity (shameful, disgraceful mediocrity) in this life time.

 

(She remembered her mother, in the late hours of the night after drinking one too many cups of wine, scream and lament that she would have to let that man hold her again. She remembered her mother's handmaidens console her.

 

"Only once more, to give an heir. Only once more, milady.

 

Her mother's words were seared into her mind.)

 

She couldn't look her mother in the eye for many weeks after the news.

 

If she could not be an outstanding cultivator like her mother wanted, then she could at least be a perfect wife and accept the marriage her mother arranged for her.

 

Her etiquette and bride-training teacher always had praises for her.

 

"The Young Mistress is truly graceful." She'd say as she watched Yanli pour tea into the cups with practised, perfected grace. "The Young Master Jin is truly lucky to have you as his fiance."

 

Yanli smiled gently, hiding her bone-white grip on the teapot with her sleeves as she bowed respectfully, "Thank you, teacher."

 

The thought of her fiance soured her mood.

 

From the moment she was born, she was already engaged.

 

It was planned out long before her conception, and her marriage partner was a handsome boy with sharp features and highly talented in cultivation. He was the son of her mother's bestfriend, and the heir to a similarly powerful cultivation sect. One whose prestige laid more heavily on their financial fortune than their cultivational prowress, one who were well-known for their flashy yellow robes that you could spot from many, many miles away, and having a slew of the wealthiest merchants and nobility hailing from their land and bloodline.

 

Her fiance was sharp, intolerant, and prideful. He smiled ruefully at her whenever they met, paid her false compliments, and would only smile genuinely when it was time for her to depart. She would catch his smile falter and turn into a pensive frown of boredom as he was forced to tour her around Koi Tower and some of the prettier parts of Lanling on the behest of his mother

 

She didn't blame him. She couldn't, really. Being forced to marry someone you don't love is already a hard blow, but marrying someone who's so far below you... It was a blow to his pride that he barely tolerated.

 

So Yanli kept all her complaints, every tearfilled heartbreak and hurt, carefully hidden under the guise of a gentle smile and complacent words. She kept every slight against her a secret from her parents.

 

She couldn't bear to disappoint them once again.

 

But then... But then her younger brother, who sweet younger brother who thought the world of her, who would not bear to have anyone insult her, struck her fiance for his words. In retaliation, the two fought, and her brother was expelled then sent back. He wore the bruises with pride and stood tall as he returned to their home.

 

The engagement was cancelled not too long after. Her mother screamed and fought with her father, yelled at her brother, all because of the engagement.

 

She mourned.

 

Why?

 

Why must the world make it so impossible for her to please her parents?

 

She nursed her brother back to health, quiet as she listened to him.

 

She held back a smile as he told her his story. How people insulted her, pointed out her flaws, and her fiance did not even bother to defend her, and agreed with them.

 

How only her dear brothers fought for her honor.

 

Oh how she loves them.

 

"Thank you, A-Xian, but you don't need to do that. Look, you got hurt."

 

"No! If someone insults you, then I will definitely fight them. You don't deserve that!"

 

She wanted to cry. What did she do to recieve such kind brothers?

 

Jiang Yanli loves her parents.

 

But she would sacrifice the world for her brothers. Because they were the only ones who seemed to love her in spite of all the flaws her parents saw in her.

 

"Shijie will defend you too."

 

So many things happened after that.

 

Her brothers were taken from her, and a month later they went missing.

 

When she was visiting her mother's relatives in Meishan, she learned that her home had been burnt to the ground.

 

Her parents, along with all of her friends, all of the people she grew up with since she was a little girl, were part of the casualties.

 

Jiang Cheng came for her and took her to safety.

 

Wei Wuxian was still missing, and then he suddenly wasn't. Then the war ended much faster than anyone thought it would.

 

(With thousands of deaths, with thousands of blood-soaked battlefields, with hundreds of sects wiped from the face of the earth by the power of the enemy, with a new hundred torture methods added to the books solely due to her brother's, to the Yiling Patriarch's morbid creativity.)

 

He was both the A-Xian she raised, and someone entirely different.

 

But he'd still eat her pork rib lotus soup, still smile at her, and still defend her with all the ferocity, all the energy, all the love and care she knew him for.

 

So when she took the blade meant for him, she didn't regret it.

 

Because so many times, so many times that she's forgotten the exact number, Wei Wuxian defended her honor, rescued her brother's life, and made them smile and laugh even after they lost everything and helped them rebuild and take back everything that was stolen from them.

 

She only hoped her life was enough to repay him.

 

She loved her parents.

 

Loved everything they had given her.

 

And to her family's benefactor, to the one who defended, protected, and helped them throughout everything that happened, she will gladly give him her life.

 

She just wanted him to be happy.

 

Because she loves her family.


End file.
